I observe Sean closely here, keeping my eyes locked onto his face but checking his body language as well. I watch as the realization of what I said washes over him like a hot shower. He sees how I made the connection, and is probably asking himself how he didn't realize it himself. He has nothing to be ashamed of, though. Sometimes we just need a little nudge in the right direction, and that nudge sets off a brilliant set of fireworks that lights up the entire sky in our minds.
Sean has a long way to go, but his first step in the right direction is a good one.
6
~ Malcolm ~
My session with Sean was a good one. In this profession, I've found that there are a multitude of patients who have a wide range of emotions and reactions to therapy. Some people are more open and willing to accept what I’m telling them. Those people apply what they’ve been exploring in our time together, and nine times out of ten, things work out for them. I’m not saying I get it right absolutely every time without fail, but in most cases, when the client listens to me, things pick up for them if not come together completely.
Some clients, however, are closed-minded from the outset of therapy. They come into the situation hoping the therapy fails, because that would somehow prove to them that they never needed therapy to begin with. I can spot those people ten minutes into the first session, but it’s my job to try to beat the odds that a patient may have in their heads. I try to overcome whatever obstacles may be in the way. I’m a competitive man by nature, so if I know I’m being doubted, I just want to turn up the heat and try harder—figure out a way to get what I want. Thankfully, I won't have to worry about that with Sean.
My drive home is a quiet one. Dover is a small city, but the green farmland and trees are always on display here. The wind is always an easy breeze that slips through the windows of my black BMW as I drive up North Dupont after leaving the office. I hit the highway, heading south for ten minutes before exiting towards Magnolia, where my home is located. When I pull into the driveway, I’m a little irked by what I see. There's a red Nissan in my driveway already. Ava’s car.
When I left the house this morning, Ava was still in bed. I didn't mind leaving her there, because I knew the reason she was worn out was because of the sex we had before I headed to the office. I liked the idea of her being too exhausted to climb out of bed and step back into the black dress she’d worn before I ordered her to step out of it and kneel in front of my bed. I love that she has to take time to recover from how I fuck her. But, when I left, I expected her to be gone before I returned. Ava and I have been seeing each other for nearly two months, so we’ve spent an adequate amount of time together, and I couldn't possibly count how many times we've had sex, but we don't live together. There are rules to being with me, and Ava being here is breaking a big one.
When I turn the knob to enter my house, I don't see anything at first. Ava is nowhere to be found. I close the door leading to the garage and step into the kitchen, which has all the lights off except the one over the sink. There isn't a sound in the place.
“Ava?” I call out, but there's no answer.
In front of me is my living room, with its white sectional couch and royal blue armchair empty and ottoman untouched. The TV is off, but the fireplace beneath it is burning in a beautiful slow dance that sends orange light flickering off the walls. I love putting on the fireplace and relaxing in front of it with a tumbler of whiskey in my hand, but I didn't turn on the fireplace. It could only have been Ava.
I leave the fireplace crackling as I turn down the hall and walk past the dining room and library, making my way up the stairs where my bedroom rests next to my office. The stairway is dark and the door to my room is closed, but I can see light shining beneath the door. Since the rest of the house is obviously unoccupied, I know Ava has to be in there. I have to fight back a rush of frustration that jolts me before I can reach out and open the door.
When the door to my room swings open, I find Ava kneeling in front of my bed. She’s completely naked and has her head down and eyes closed. Her dark brown hair is tied back into a ponytail that hangs behind her like a thin rope, and from this angle at the door, I can see the beautiful thickness in her thighs, hips, and belly, as she sits with her feet tucked under her luscious ass. I want to be angry at her presence, but the sight of her is too seductive and inviting to feel anything other than an intense desire to fuck her.
“Ava,” I call her, barely holding on to the resentment I felt when I pulled into the driveway. At this point, the irritation is nothing more than a candle struggling to remain lit in a room of darkness. It’s there, but not strong enough to light up the room.
“Yes, sir?” Ava replies, keeping her eyes closed and her head down. I can't take my eyes off her body and all its curves. Her thickness and unmistakable confidence in it makes my cock cry for her. There's nothing sexier than a confident woman, no matter what size she is. Confidence is everything, and a thick woman with confidence is queen of them all.
“Ava, why are you here?”
“I missed you,” she says, her voice dripping with desire. “I needed you again.”
I want to yell at her. I want to scream for her to get out now, because I've had a long day at work, and I want to unwind with a hot shower, a hot meal, and a cold drink. But all I see is her beauty, body, and obedience. With everything I crave sitting right in front of me, how the fuck am I supposed to resist?
“Needed me for what?” I ask, anticipating the answer and feeling it in my pants.
“I needed you, Malcolm. I need you. I need you to fuck me the way that only you can. Sir.” Ava opens her eyes and looks up at me, and the lust in her expression reaches out and grabs hold of me, locking me in.
I let out a sigh, but it’s not one of exasperation. It’s one of desire, and I instinctively bite my lip as I make up my mind that I’m going to punish Ava for being here against my wishes. Yes, I’m going to punish her, and we’re both going to love it.
7
~ Malcolm ~
“Close your eyes, Ava, and keep them closed.”
Ava flashes the beginnings of a smile that she pushes away before it can fully develop. She knows she’s done something I don't like, so that means there will be punishment. The life I live and sex I have allow me to be creative in situations like this, and Ava knows very well that I’m about to let that creativity come to life all over her.
I let Ava sit there for a few minutes before I move from in front of the door. I stand there watching her, letting my eyes seek out the secret places on her body that I want to touch—the places I want to watch quiver beneath me as she comes. After a moment of enjoying the view, I make my way over to my closet, unbuckling my pants as I walk. Ava can hear the rattle of my belt buckle and I see her struggling to keep her smile at bay.
“Am I funny, Ava?” I ask without a hint of banter. Ava’s smile fades.
“No, sir.”
“Why were you smiling?”
“I can't help it. I’m just ready for you.”
“Is that right? You're ready for what you're forcing on me?” I snip. “You stayed in my home while I was away. Is that something that’s allowed?”